


Jigsaw

by sasha_james



Series: The TimSasha chronicles [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Circus, Clowns, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Long-Term Relationship(s), Nonbinary Character, Stranger Avatar Sasha James, Stranger Avatar Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), The Unknowing (The Magnus Archives), Trapeze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28751829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_james/pseuds/sasha_james
Summary: [All performers!!] the intercom in the room says, crackling, a high, cheery voice blaring through the speakers. [The show is about to begin! Everyone, to your places, and break a leg! The Unknowing awaits!] With that, the speaker falls silent. The duo smiles at each other.“Ready?” asks Tim, holding out his elbow in a silent offer.“Ready,” Sasha replies, linking their arm in his.Together, the two leave the dressing room, arm in arm....Tim and Sasha have both been claimed by the Stranger, but it doesn't stop them from loving.
Relationships: Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Series: The TimSasha chronicles [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775998
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Jigsaw

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely inspired by the Stranger!Tim artworks by @simpstoker on Tumblr! Please, please check that out!
> 
> I wrote all 2,000+ of these words in 3 hours. Enjoy this fluffiness!

Sasha lines their eyes with pencil, dark eyeliner completing their cartoon-like appearance. They smile at themself in the mirror, eyes wide. Their hair falls naturally in small waves over their shoulders (now plastic with skin, of course.) The lights above the small clown's mirror flicker ominously as a knock sounds at the door of their dressing room.

"Come on in!" Sasha calls, humming to themself as they adjust the lapels of their red ringmaster coat. The doorknob turns, squeaking, and a tall figure slips into the room behind them, appearing in the mirror.

Sasha whirls around, hair twirling, and runs to the figure, wrapping their arms around its plastic torso.

"Tim! Come for a visit, hm?"

"But of course!" he says, upbeat as ever. "I was making rounds, and decided I need to stop in to see my favourite little doll!"

Sasha giggles, grabbing Tim's soft-skinned cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss. "I'd better be your favourite! Because you're mine," they say, drawing their words out playfully as they trace their finger up his cheek. He does take good care of his skin, doesn't he?

"But of course!" his smile never flickers, and he pulls up a chair next to theirs at the makeup desk. "You look lovely, by the way. Care to do my makeup?"

Sasha scoffs. "You hardly need it."

"What's the fun in being a makeup-less clown?" Tim bounces in his seat excitedly, eyes wide and glassy. "Besides, you do it so well."

Sasha taps their chin in thought, plastic under their skin making a small, audible noise. "Well, if you insist, but I think we'll have to do some adjusting to get it right." They hold out their hand to Tim.

"Adjusting?" Tim asks as Sasha helps him out of the chair. "What sort of--WOAH!--" he calls out in surprise as he is pushed down backwards onto Sasha's small bed.

Sasha crawls up above Tim, their legs straddling his torso, leaning against him. "Now, this is a good angle!" they say cheerily, wielding a makeup brush. 

"Ah, this kind of adjustment," Tim coos from beneath Sasha. "You know, you look so gorgeous up there."

Sasha bats at him with the stick end of the makeup brush. "You're too much! Close your eyes, goofball, I'm trying to do your eyeshadow!"

"Oh, of course, my lovely and wonderful partner in crime." Tim closes his eyes, smiles still hovering on his lips, as Sasha sweeps bright colours onto his eyelids. The bristles of the brush tickle as they blend the pigment together. He feels his plastic joints relax at Sasha's touch.

"You can open up now!" Sasha calls in a sing-song voice. Tim's eyelids flutter open, as Sasha comes into focus once more above him. Their hair curls down over their shoulders, and their glasses are crooked on their face. He grins; how cute.

Sasha sets the brushes down. "What's that grin about?" they tease. Tim opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, their mouth is pressed against his. Tim hums into their lips and closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around their waist and pulling them against him. Their shapes, though plastic, fit together perfectly. Just like they were jigsaw pieces, unique but beautiful.

Sasha is the first to pull away, and Tim feels a disappointed pang in his silicon heart when they do. Sasha’s glasses are even more crooked now, and so is their smile as they let out a laugh.

“What? What’s so funny now?” he asks.

Sasha taps him on the lips. “Let’s just say, I don’t have to do your lipstick.” They roll over to let Tim sit up, and he looks at himself in the mirror. Obvious lipstick marks are left askew on his mouth, clearly not applied by hand, and clearly the same shade as Sasha’s.

“Well, look at that! You have skill, I must say, doing my lipstick with no hands!” He reaches over and adjusts Sasha’s red bowtie. “It’s perfect.”

Sasha giggles, teeth ever-so-slightly too sharp. “You flatter me, Stoker. Ready for our show tonight?”

“Always. We’ve perfected that trapeze trick, I think the audience will go crazy,” Tim says, standing, before helping Sasha to their feet as well. “And the audience always eats up the box trick, it's terrific!”

“Well of course they eat it up! They can’t take their eyes off your gorgeous face.”

“Is that jealousy I hear, James?”

Sasha bats at Tim with their white gloves, and then slides them over their thin hands. “Of course it’s not jealousy! I’m stating a fact: Your skin is wonderfully taken care of, quite gorgeous. It's only natural for the audience to react when someone of your standard is sawed in half.” They can’t help but pout a bit though: the audience loves him so much.

Sasha lets out a squeak as Tim grabs them by the gloved hand and twirls them around gracefully. “Awh, Sash, don’t be jealous! No silly audience member could replace my lovely doll.” This draws the grin back out of Sasha, and they dance around him, plastic fingers intertwined.

[All performers!!] the intercom in the room says, crackling, a high, cheery voice blaring through the speakers. [The show is about to begin! Everyone, to your places, and break a leg! The Unknowing awaits!] With that, the speaker falls silent. The duo smiles at each other.

“Ready?” asks Tim, holding out his elbow in a silent offer.

“Ready,” Sasha replies, linking their arm in his.

Together, the two leave the dressing room, arm in arm.

…

[And now may I present: Sasha and Tim, with the classic saw-box performance!]

Tim jogs onstage, waving ecstatically to the audience. Sasha isn’t far behind, gliding onstage behind him, more dancing than walking. The lights are blinding, and the roar of the crowd is deafening. The building smells like sweat and sugar, with a hint of blood. It would be overwhelming for the normal human. However, the duo is neither normal nor human. Well, not anymore. Sasha clicks on their microphone in their waistband as the crowd’s cheer dies down.

“Hello, sweethearts! Having a good time?” they ask. The audience cheers again, but their excited shouts are quickly cut off as they hold up their hand. “Then I suppose you’re ready for another treat. I have my wonderfully lovely assistant Tim here to help!”

Tim steps forward, blowing kisses and bowing dramatically. A few voices in the audience whoop and holler.

“Now, Tim’s got a real problem.” Sasha takes him by the wrist. “He likes to think inside the box.” On cue, a curtain behind them rises, and a large, long box is revealed. Sasha leads Tim to the box, and clicks open a latch, lifting the side of the box. “In you go, mate!”

Tim crawls into the box, laying down on his back. He winks at Sasha, trying not to laugh.

“Bye-bye!” Sasha sings, slamming the side of the box down, and relocking the latch. A few audience members gasp for effect. They spin back to face the crowd. “Now, I’m sure many of you have seen this trick before,” they say, dragging out their words sweetly as they run their fingers down the box, which strangely resembles a coffin. “But I think you’ll be surprised.” 

And with that, Sasha pulls out a large, sharp blade from behind the box. The edge gleams as they hold it up in the spotlight. Without a word, they turn the blade, and then slam it down on the middle of the box. The extremely sharp edge cuts through the box like butter. The audience tenses: Were they supposed to actually slice the box in half? What about Tim?

“Don’t be afraid, Tim’s tougher than that!” Sasha calls out, holding up their hands to calm them. “Here! I’ll show you!” The clown pries open the side of the box, and Tim comes rolling out. That is, Tim from the waist up. His plastic torso thunks on the ground. A collective gasp echoes throughout the building. Sasha looks between the audience and the half of Tim.

“Oh--oh my--Tim? Are...are you okay?” they ask. Tim lifts his head, still grinning wildly.

“Well, Sash, I think that blade was a bit too sharp!” he says cheerily.

Sasha waves to the audience once more, though much more hastily now. “Yes, he’s okay! This is totally under control! Thank you, everyone, enjoy your intermission!” The crowd begins to roar once more as the stage falls dark, signaling intermission.

Sasha looks back down at Tim, while turning off their mic, and grins, losing their panicked facade. “Great job!” they whisper.

“Please, your acting was so good!” Tim whispers back, laughing quietly. Sasha pulls his lower half out of the other side of the box, and with a pop! They stick him back together.

“Good thing about being plastic, huh?” he jokes, standing up and brushing off his coat. Two large men come and take away the remains of the box. “So, ready for our water break?”

…

Tim and Sasha stand behind the large set backboard, waiting for the dancers to finish their routine. Sasha bounces on their toes, bubbling with nervous energy.

“Hey,” Tim says, resting his hand on their shoulder. “We’ve done this a thousand times, you’ve got this!”

“I still get nervous!” they respond, adjusting their glasses more securely on their face. “What if I mess us up, what if I fall? Nikola won’t be happy.”

Tim rolls his eyes lightheartedly. “As long as the audience is happy, Nikola’s happy. We’re clowns, Sash! Performers! If you mess up, just make it part of the performance, got it?” He smiles, and kisses them softly on the cheek. “Break a leg, doll.”

Applause crashes through the building, and the dancers all run offstage, Nikola with them.

“You’re on!” she sings, skinless face beaming with the thrill of performance, before running off to change costumes. Sasha grabs Tim’s hand in theirs, and together they walk out onto the platform. 

The lights are blinding, as always, and the crowd’s clapping echoes in Sasha’s plastic head. They bite their lip, butterflies in their non-existent stomach. That is, until they feel Tim squeeze their hand. Their vision comes back into focus, and all they see is the ladder to the tightrope and trapeze, and Tim’s beaming face. With that, all the overwhelming nature of the building goes away. It’s just them and the ropes, and Sasha smiles.

The two scale the ladder as the music starts, and head up to the platform. Sasha can feel Tim’s warm, artificial breath on the backs of their legs as they climb. They gracefully pull themself up, Tim right behind them. Without missing a beat, Sasha cartwheels across the tightrope, all the way to the other platform. When they arrive, they can see Tim on the other side, and the safety net far below them. 

Tim nods to Sasha, grabbing his handle. They do the same. Together, in perfect unison, they run and leap off the platforms, flying across the gap. Midway, they swing and jump, switching handles, and landing back where they started. If the audience is cheering, they can’t hear them; the performance and each other is all this duo needs.

The two go to swing again. Tim leans on his handle, and holds out one strong arm. Sasha takes his hand and releases their handle, letting Tim carry them to the other side. He looks down at them and winks, and they grin wildly. Sasha pulls themself up, wrapping their legs around Tim’s solid torso, and lets go. They lean back, holding on only by their legs, as they continue to swing. Their long hair twists and curls behind them. They feel free.

After countless tosses, twirls, and tricks, the dynamic duo stands on either side of the tightrope, ready for the finale of their performance. The song begins to build, edging towards a climax, as the two begin to make their way towards the center of the rope.

Tim holds out a hand, and Sasha takes it. The rope bows underneath them, but they aren’t afraid. Ankles constantly shifting to keep their balance, the two begin to dance.

“You look beautiful,” whispers Tim, taking Sasha by the waist. They smile as he lifts her gently and swings her around.

“Oh, please, I’m going to need the exfoliation of a lifetime. Are the lights hotter than usual?” they reply, dipping themself into an arabesque. Tim pulls them upright, and pulls them close. One-two-three, one-two-three. The two begin to waltz on the tightrope as the music evens out into a steady rhythm, twirling around each other, somehow managing to stay on the rope.

Tim places a hand on the small of Sasha’s back and dips them. “The only hot thing here is you, dear.”

“Do you think the audience can see us talking?”

“Maybe. Who cares?” Tim grins, cheeky, and twirls Sasha under his arm. The spotlights reflect off of their glasses, and their cheeks look flushed. “I don’t care if they can hear everything I say. Actually, I wish they could! Because then I could tell them all how much I love you.”

One-two-three, one-two-three.

Sasha’s expression softens, glassy eyes full of emotion. “That’s so sweet, Tim...” They curl their fingers into his, giving his hand a squeeze. “And think, a few years ago, if you told me that we’d be little plastic clowns in a circus? I’d call you right mad.”

“But I love it here,” Tim replied, “because I can spend all day with you. We don’t have to grow old, we don’t have to die. We can live forever, off of the fear the Unknowing brings us.” His words are harsh, but his tone is kind. This is truly a future two monsters could want.

One-two. One-two. One-two.

“And you really want to spend eternity with a silly little clown like me?” Sasha teases, ducking under his arm.

“More than anything, my doll. Because I love you.” He takes both of their hands. Sasha freezes, and their feet stop moving. This isn’t in the choreography, what is he doing?

“I would spend a hundred eternities with you, Sasha.” Tim shifts on the tightrope, lowering himself.

Sasha watches him, eyes nervous and wide, until they realize what he’s doing. “...Oh my--”

“Sasha!” Tim exclaims, hands cupped around theirs, balanced on one knee on the trembling rope. “You’re my spotlight, my circus, my reason for everything!” Carefully, he reaches inside his coat sleeve, and pulls out a small ring, adorned in silver and black, designed like a snake to curl around the wearer’s finger. It glimmers, beautiful in the spotlights.

Breath caught in their throat, Sasha can’t say a word. The reflection of the ring shines in their eyes and they look between it and Tim.

“Will you be my eternity? Will you marry me?” 

Sasha has to cover their mouth with their hands to prevent themself from screaming. They bounce in place and flap their hands excitedly in the air, blind to the stage and the crowd. “Tim! Yes, yes, yes!” 

Tim slides the ring on Sasha’s finger as fast as possible, and is able to stand up before Sasha flings themself at him, throwing their arms around his neck. The sudden motion jerks the rope from beneath them, but neither cares, holding each other as they fall, kissing each other deeply. They barely feel it when they hit the net, entangled in each other’s arms, laughing and crying and kissing. The audience coos and shouts, but they can’t hear it. They’re two jigsaw pieces, two monsters, two performers, and now they’ll be happy for eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> EPILOGUE: 
> 
> Breekon and Hope lower the net to the ground, and the two clowns sit up, still holding each other.
> 
> "Well, this is quite the surprise!" Nikola says with a laugh. She smiles. "It seems you've made tonight's show even more special, congratulations!"
> 
> Tim and Sasha pull each other to their feet. They had a beautiful future ahead of them in the Unknowing.


End file.
